


The Evening Skirt

by TaigaKunaix



Series: Controlling Force [2]
Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Car Sex, Denial, M/M, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaigaKunaix/pseuds/TaigaKunaix
Summary: Instead of appointing their 'date' at Hiruma's like normal, reserved people, the quarterback insisted on getting lunch with the fullback. Akaba had a feeling there was more to the message than Hiruma had led on, but the blonde wouldn't say any of THAT to his face.It's only fun when Akaba fucks the answers out of him, anyways.





	The Evening Skirt

**Author's Note:**

> This pair is more fun to write than I had anticipated. Hmm...

Driving around in a coupe like an RX8 would be _ any _ college kid’s dream, and Akaba’s currently living it. He’s been legally driving since he was 17 but _ illegally _ speaking, his first time on the wheel was around the time he was 12; technically that didn’t count because it was his dad’s car, his dad was next to him, and they were in the countryside of Japan for a visit. Anytime he’d pull up to Saikyoudai in his car, college girls of any year would stop and gape at him, and the guys would eye his shades and know not to show their heaping bouts of envy because it was _ Akaba’s _ car.

It’s not uncommon for athletes to flex on their fellow peers, and Akaba was one of those people who unintentionally do so.

He doesn’t travel much, so his car does stay in the university’s parking lot very often, near where the dorms are. Today however, he was taking himself out to a cafe located in the city, considerably far from Saikyoudai. It was a good thing too, because the person he was meant to meet would not want any familiar faces wondering what Akaba was doing on a _ date. _ Agon and his teammates figured the fullback only had a one night stand, so actually seeing him in pursuit would be jarring for their 2nd year ace squad.

He turned his radio down once he reached the cafe, a Led Zeppelin song fading as he parked. Akaba turned the car off and stepped out, carrying his trusty guitar (which was sitting on the front passenger seat. _ Yes, _ that’s where he puts his damn guitar at all times) and heading in. He got a message within the first four steps past the entrance. He chose to look at it once he finds a proper seat.

Once he was fully in the seating area, he could see that the rustic looking cafe wasn’t busy. There were many seats that were empty, and Akaba chose to sit in the one farthest from everyone else. He does that all the time anyway, mostly because his fingers itched to play a tune every now and then, and judging from the fact that he came alone, he’ll have to be waiting for a while. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open to see what his date had to say.

**Hiruma: You in there yet?**

How coincidental for Hiruma to ask him that a few seconds _ after _he stepped foot through the entrance. Akaba sighed to himself, about to reply when he suddenly received another message.

**Hiruma: Answer me, Fucking Red Eyed guitar freak.**

“_ Fuu… _ ” Akaba shook his head, before muttered to himself, “That was a mouthful…” He sent a single, nonchalant ‘ **Yes**’ back as his response, and pocketed his phone. He walked over to the cashier and politely asked for park salad with a bottle of sparkling water. He went back to his seat and started picking at random notes, getting a feel for the tune in his head. Much like the cafe, the rhythm he picked up was rather leisurely. He was sure that if he actually played a full tune, his guitar would serve as satisfying background music to the people around him. 

He had to stop because his salad was ready; he left his guitar on his seat and went to retrieve his late afternoon lunch. It was ten minutes to five, as he just checked, and so far he hadn’t received any inclination regarding Hiruma’s whereabouts.

That devil quarterback is the _ last _ person to flake out on _ anything _ that he found useful, or worth his time. Akaba still didn’t know which category he fell into.

Instead of eating immediately, the itch in Akaba’s fingers became prevalent. He put his shades on, closed his eyes and started quietly playing his guitar again. The cafe started to seem a little less leisurely, his fingers worked up a soft, mildly jazzy tune. He smiled to himself when it went in _ perfect _ sync with the atmosphere, serenely satisfied, though it wouldn’t be long before the synchronization loses its harmony. 

Perhaps fifteen minutes had passed since he got up, and he suddenly felt the dynamic in the room change. It was not enough to make him open his eyes, but it _ was _ enough to slide the measure up a notch. What was once a low and slow beat was now suave and a little catchy. Far ahead of him, someone sauntered in, ordered themselves a cup of black coffee, and turned with a glidey catwalk towards Akaba’s side of the cafe; people stared at the person as they did so, and Akaba could smell the rich scent of coffee even from here. In less than a minute, he felt someone’s presence in front of him and at first chose to ignore it, but the person didn’t move for several seconds, so he paused his playing and opened his eyes to address this person.

Akaba… did _ not _ expect to see a really _ hot _ woman standing in front of him with a cup of coffee in hand, and she was pretty tall too. She stood to be about his height, with long pale, rather well-shaped legs, all under a skater skirt that was a little _ too short _ for public decency, stopping at the very top of her thighs. Her skirt was black, and her cropped dress shirt was black, exposing a flat stomach, with a white sash tied around her neck like a drooping bowtie. Her hair was brown, contrasting with her blue eyes, and it was layered, going down to her lower back. She adorned light makeup, only a warm pale red eyeshadow and equally pale red lipstick. Her _ legs _ were what he found his eyes lingering on, they looked really toned despite being super skinny, and when he looked back at her, she was sweetly smiling at him.

He misread her tune. This was a _ man _ he was gaping at.

He was _ so beyond _ amused, Akaba had to move his shades down to show his eye’s gaze. “ _ Fuu _ … this seems a little bit daring.” Red eyes went down to the skirt. He was sure that if this _ man _ would bend over 90 degrees, anyone behind him would get a clear shot of his ass.

“You got a good eye for distinguishing between genders, Fucking Red Eye. _ Kekeke…” _ Hiruma had graced Akaba’s eyes with a very feminine walk, going around Akaba’s seat while trailing a finger across the back of his shoulders. “Why do you have your shades on? You’re indoors, _ genius.” _

Akaba took his shades off, ignoring the rhetorical question. “I’m not at all tone-deaf, _ Hiruma.” _ He watched him saunter towards his own seat across from him. “You’d fool many with that disguise, but your rhythm is too unique to be poorly discerned.”

Regardless, Hiruma _ still _ looked like a snack sitting across from him, the wig complimented his face so well Akaba wouldn’t be surprised if a poor soul tried asking him out on his way here. “You wouldn’t believe how many eyes were on me while I took the train here, _ kekeke _.” Hiruma flipped his hair, humoring himself. “You like?”

Akaba’s usually stoic face remained impartial. “It’s… quite a sight.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, guitar freak.” Hiruma narrowed his eyes, arching his back to give off the more pristine, feminine vibe that completely contrasted his use of language. “If I turned around right now, your red contacts would melt right the fuck off.”

“_ Fuu…” _ Akaba knew that was figurative speech, but… granted he’s already seen Hiruma’s ass once, he wouldn’t put that past him. His rather slim build gave him a very tall feminine frame, coupled with an outfit like _ this _ … who _ wouldn’t _ check him out as he walked by? “You’d really put on something so controversial, just for an afternoon lunch with yours truly?”

“Why come here without spicing things up?” Hiruma grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. He crossed one leg over the other. “It’s more fun if people witness you ogling at me like a full-course meal, Fucking Red Eye.”

Akaba swallowed his sparkling water. It’s starting to get _ really erotic _ on this side of the cafe. He can hear a swoony tune in the back of his mind and it will only get louder as this date continues. At the moment, it was as soft as a pianissimo.

He didn’t respond to that, instead he just closed his eyes and shifted his guitar so that he could pick at his salad. There was a band of silence that stretched between them, though Akaba didn’t put his guard down throughout the comforting quiet. Hiruma was sipping his black unsweetened coffee watching him eat, eyeing his face, his food, his guitar, his hair- literally _ everything _ on Akaba that he could see. The guitarist continue to eat, but he still kept his eyes open; for some reason he expected Hiruma to make some form of physical contact but he didn’t. Red eyes looked elsewhere but at the quarterback, suspicion growing in the rhythm.

“Why are you so tense?” Hiruma had his head innocently tilted at him, as if he wasn’t just _ groping _ Akaba with his eyes. “Hmm?”

Akaba blinked up at him, still chewing. That innocent look made Hiruma look unnecessarily hot. He swallowed his salad before speaking. “I’m not tense at all.”

“It’s too obvious.” Hiruma’s blue eyes went to his guitar. “Is it because you’re itching to play that guitar?”

It started to get noticeably quiet from people casually exiting, Akaba realized, which is why he didn’t hear at least two curse words in that sentence. Hiruma’s voice also took on a more deceptively reserved, feminine tone; he really _ was _ going all out with this disguise, huh?

“I’ll give your hands something to do…” Hiruma leaned back, circling his coffee cup in front of his mouth. “Put your guitar down.”

_ Oh. Wow _, so that suspension was unneeded. See, this disguise Hiruma had on was throwing everything off.

“You’d really make a scene around here?” Akaba had a feeling this was not a cue, but he still hurmored the idea of hotly making out near the corner of this cafe. Hiruma _ definitely _ had no problem with public shows of decency, that much was confirmed from how scandalously short his skirt was.

Hiruma chuckled unnaturally. It made Akaba blink. “_ N _ ot at all.” He leaned forward and stood up, _ purposely _ arching his back. Akaba can see some men far behind them glancing as the quarterback saucily arose from his seat. He went around the table, and Akaba decided to place his guitar in his case situated by the wall. Pushing his chair back a bit, Hiruma sat down on his lap and took a long sip of his coffee, and as expected, Akaba’s free hand laid itself on Hiruma’s exposed thigh.

Hiruma spoke into Akaba’s ear, stopping him in the middle of forking down another piece of his salad. “See? Is that better, _ guitar freak _?”

Red eyes fluttered for a single instance, he inhaled and immediately found out that Hiruma also smelled like strawberries. There were strawberries in Akaba’s salad. One of Akaba's favorite fruits are strawberries_ . His tune is off today… _ “Perhaps.” He eyed his salad like it was the prettiest thing in front of him. Hiruma squinted. “Though it’d be harder to eat with you practically in my way.” 

Hiruma shifted so that his legs were over Akaba’s lap, the guitarist still didn’t grant him a single glance. Deciding to put his coffee down, he took a strawberry off of Akaba’s bowl, knowing how much the fullback loved salad, and placed it against his glossed lips, looking Akaba dead in the eyes while he tongued the fruit. If only Akaba were _ not _ wearing contacts, his pupils would have shown a strum in his gaze. His eyes followed Hiruma’s tongue with a slight frown, seeing the quarterback bite the softened strawberry ever so delicately. 

_ Nobody _ is supposed to make eating a strawberry look _ that _ erotic. Akaba started darting his eyes around them, wondering if anyone was close enough to see what he was seeing right now. 

“Anxious?” Hiruma’s voice, needlessly sensuous, made Akaba blink back at him. Hiruma took his fork right out of his hand, stabbed it into his salad and watched those red eyes blink twice as he ate Akaba’s salad, _ leisurely _.

There are a few things Akaba was not very good at. _ Sharing _ is one of them.

The tune in his head paused for a moment, in fact the atmosphere of the entire cafe seemed to pause too. Akaba was _ not _ savvy with people eating his salad, that’s for sure. “Excuse me.”

“You’re excused.” Hiruma looking at him, chewing. He lightly chuckled too.

“_ T _hat was uncalled for.” Akaba shook his head. “If you wanted a salad, you could have ordered one.”

“I don’t like salad.”

A blink. Another caesura, _ then why… _ “So you’d eat out of mine?”

Hiruma shrugged. “You never said I couldn’t, _ kekeke...” _

It suddenly clicked as to why the rhythm so far felt odd, Akaba tilted his head; _ Ah… he wants attention. _

The sexily dressed quarterback picked out another strawberry, in fact it was the last strawberry on Akaba’s bowl. The guitarist likes strawberries, and he just _ had _to watch as Hiruma placed the slice on his tongue, rolling it around his lips before he bit on it. He leaned to the table to place the fork down, and then made a face. “Oh, did you want that strawberry?”

Well, so much for smooth jazz and leisurely tunes. Now every beat that Akaba can decipher sounded _ progressively _ annoying. “I did.” He plainly gave Hiruma a straight face, the same face he’d give to Kotaro whenever he does his _ Dastardly Smart Spit-Kick _.

Hiruma hummed, he moved himself closer to Akaba and took the fullback by the shoulders, giving him a purposely wet kiss. The sweet taste of strawberries hit Akaba’s lips, the guitarist fought back making a sound because even Hiruma’s _ lipstick _ tasted like strawberries. Their kissing would have quickly turned into a noisy makeout session if Akaba hadn’t pulled away, holding Hiruma by the biceps to look him in the face. “We’re in public.” He reminded the quarterback, knowing Hiruma wouldn’t give a fuck anyway. “And I’d rather finish my lunch without being vetted before we continue with this ‘date’.”

“And?” Hiruma still had his arms on Akaba’s shoulders. They slid down until his hands rested on his upper chest. “You think they’d throw us out over some harmless kissing?”

If Akaba hadn’t stopped it right then and there, he was certain Hiruma’s hand would’ve been happily fondling in his pants. “Right now, you’re not the feared devil everyone knows about.” His hand trailed down to Hiruma’s skirt, he smirked. “You’re my _ girlfriend _.”

At first, Akaba placed a sour chord that matched the look on Hiruma’s face, though the quarterback quickly smirked. “If that’s the case,” he turned to the table and gestured to the salad, “Finish, _ quick _ . There is more in store for us tonight, _ kekeke.. _.”

The fullback took the fork from the bowl and grabbed a bit of salad, teeth grazing against the prongs by habit. He ate his fill and then looked at Hiruma. “Are we taking a look at the latest plays again?”

Hiruma took his coffee from the table, and leaned in real close with a devious smirk. “_ Try not to be an idiot…” _

They stayed there for a little over an hour, by the time they left it was six in the evening. Akaba hadn’t parked in front of the cafe, it’d be a short walk before they’d reach his coupe. Despite that, he couldn’t stop the silly, arrogant tune passing his mind every time he saw someone _ stare _ at Hiruma’s outfit, especially his enticing legs. He didn’t even invite Hiruma into his car but the quarterback decided that he was going in anyway.

Their date wasn’t over. He still had to drive Hiruma back to his apartment, and who knows how long _ that _ will take.

Hiruma vocally sighed, he was walking ahead of Akaba. “Now that we’re outta there…” He started walking with a eye-catching catwalk, long legs went around each other so perfectly in sync that Akaba _ had _ to look down.

His eyes went wide when Hiruma snaked a finger down his hip, into his skirt, to pull up something that almost made Akaba _ pause _ in his gait; Hiruma’s finger curled around the lace strap of a black thong. 

“You came all the way here wearing nothing but _ that _ underneath your skirt?” Akaba’s eyes lingered down there, watching the way Hiruma’s hip swayed, hearing the sound of that lace strap smack against his hip. Hiruma didn’t give him a verbal answer, all he did was eye Akaba with a wink.

“_ Fuu…” _ Akaba closed his eyes, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He only allowed the _ ghost _ of a smirk to grace his lips, as the rhythm between them reached an anticipative pace.

When they got in, Akaba peeled off and went into the road, Hiruma sat on the left passenger seat with his apparent purse on his lap. Akaba had never seen that with him _ ever, _ the fact that he pulled that out of nowhere had him confused.

“Don’t be scared, I don’t have any guns in here, Fucking Red Eye. _ Kekeke… _” Hiruma kept his hands over the purse zipper, squeezing it. “You don’t have to worry about driving while being fucking held at gunpoint.”

“_ Fuu _ …” How _ amusing _ . “ _ You _ would never put a gun in a purse anyway.”

Hiruma laughed, the wild cascade of his tone filling the car. “You know me too well on that, guitar freak. _ Kekekeke…” _

_ And on other things _ , Akaba mentally added, he knew Hiruma prided himself on being mysterious. His enigmatic sense only relied on how terrifying he was to everyone else, that was the very first thing Akaba dissected out of him as a _ captain _ of his high-school team. If it weren’t for his threatening appearance, tone, and _ endeavors _ , there would be nothing Hiruma could willfully hide on his own. Control, and a grand _ fortissimo _ were all synonymous with how Hiruma kept his slave empire alive and thriving.

Akaba was outside of that huge bubble. He saw through it _ all _ quite quickly, though it was never in him to just point it out; that would spoil Hiruma’s pandemonious rhythm. He decided to only shortly chuckle to that response, for a cadence _ never _ holds secrets.

His guitar sat in the backseats, case closed, so he pliantly turned the radio back on for some Led Zeppelin. He wasn’t surprised to see that Hiruma did take a liking to rock, much of his usual appearance _ screamed _ of that genre, but he was surprised when Hiruma _ visibly _ showed enjoyment. Akaba can see it in the corner of his eye, how Hiruma would sway himself to the beat humming the song’s beat. At a stop light, red eyes went down to those thighs; so conservatively closed, just like Hiruma’s eyes at the moment as his long brown wig swayed around with him.

Those thighs were going to be _ open _ soon enough.

Despite _ Stairway to Heaven _ playing, Akaba can piece a different tune emitting from the person beside him, and surely enough Hiruma changed the radio station even though he was practically jamming to the previous song, a now slower song playing. Akaba knew the name of it; it was _ So Anxious _ by Ginuwine, and its mood was more on the sensual side which Hiruma picked up quickly. His red eyes _ accidentally _ eyed those legs shifting, trailing up to his rolling abdomen where his sharp-nailed fingers started to caress. Akaba threw his gaze back at the road.

“I think this suits you well, Fucking Red Eye. _ Kekeke… _”

It was only coincidental that Hiruma would pick the _ one _ radio station that _ happened _ to be playing a sexual song with _ this _ title, while he rolled his hips and playfully bit at his fingernail. Instead of indulging in Hiruma’s budding eroticism, it’d be wiser to focus on getting to Hiruma’s apartment so that they can _ indulge _ in private. 

Not even a full minute into the song, Akaba was barely halfway into a right turn when he felt something being tossed at his face. He glanced down at his lap before throwing a cross look at the new lane. Apparently Hiruma had no regard for his own safety, because he literally chucked his thong at the driving fullback.

“Was that necessary?” Akaba shook his head, he was not looking at Hiruma. 

“Was it not?” Hiruma quipped back, blue eyes took in Akaba’s leisurely outfit; a white dress shirt, his collars undone as was his usual style, and a pair of dark blue jeans. _ Makes it easier to undress him _ . Akaba could have been an asshole by dressing himself up all nicely but he _ didn’t _ ; in fact, his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt was starting to make the quarterback a little hot, and he had _ just _ the right fix for that.

“_ Fuu _ … Could you hold your navel’s bellowing for once?” Akaba gave him only _ half a second’s _ worth of a glare. “I am driving.”

Hiruma scrunched his face up and leaned back, showing an ample amount of his stomach. “What’s that gotta do with me? _ Kekeke…” _

Akaba chose to keep his focus on the road. They were fifteen minutes away from the quarterback’s business apartment, being stuck with a _ minx _ like Hiruma for that long would guarantee a hard-on, especially when he’s now shifting to put his legs up on the dashboard. The guitarist had _ so _ many questions, but he figured asking anything would be useless, so he waited for the tune changing between them to give him his answers.

Hiruma pulled two things out of his purse fast enough for Akaba to not see from his peripherals. He placed one item down beside him, underneath his thigh, before popping the cap of the other open, which was a small bottle of lube. With two saucy fingers and quick roll of his hips, his right hand found itself going beneath his skirt, rubbing at his asshole while the other arm situated itself behind him. He slipped a lubed finger in himself, biting his lip and groaning loudly as he eased it back a bit more. With a foot, he lowered the volume of the radio _ just _ so Akaba's _ goody-two-shoe-driving- _ass could hear how hot he'd sound as he played with himself. 

Unlike the fullback, Hiruma's fingers could not work such magic in a short amount of time which made it even _ hotter, _ that meant it'd take longer to cum. If he did get impatient, he had a sex toy sitting underneath his thigh, and he'll _ definitely _use that later. Obscene sounds started coming out of his mouth, and he purposely dragged it on just to exaggerate the mood in the four-seated coupe. 

The guitarist could hear him _ well and clear _ , but he still kept his eyes on the road, deciding to use this new symphony to his advantage because not only was the aforementioned erotic tune getting louder, but Hiruma sounded _ really nice _ when he’s moaning in tandem with the rhythm. Akaba shifted in his seat. 

"Getting hard over there, Fucking Red Eye?" Hiruma almost cooed with a breathy tone, impatiently sticking another finger into him and feeling his own walls contract deliciously. He moaned again, the sound made Akaba sit up a bit straighter. "Come here and touch me…"

"_ Fuu _ … I would partake if I weren't driving, and if we weren't in the city." Akaba looked around them, there were _ people walking on the sidewalks _ and if he didn’t beat the green light they would get a raunchy view of the womanly quarterback fingering himself. He was actually getting pretty close to the highway so as long as he’d beat the light, nobody would see Hiruma. Still, he wished the brunette had _ some _level of courtesy. 

"You're getting close to the expressway, _ genius _." Hiruma pointed out quickly, curling his fingers in and thrusting. His back arched and he closed his eyes, his other hand holding the side of his seat. Luckily, he had beat the light right before he would take a lane to the highway, and the quarterback pulled his legs higher until his flats were touching the front window, pushing his fingers in deeper. "So pull over and fuck me there."

"We are not far from your hotel." Akaba closed his eyes for a moment, hearing Hiruma's slick fingers go in and out of his pink entrance. He opened them to face oncoming traffic, accelerating again. "You would not be skilled enough to finish at this pace of yours. Your rhythm is a little patchy."

"Then patch it up for me, Fucking Red Eye." Hiruma pulled his fingers out, seeing Akaba speed up and merging into an expresslane. Hiruma chuckled to himself when he watched Akaba swerved his car _ all the way _ over to the leftmost lane. " _ Kekeke, _speeding for this sweet ass, hnn?" 

"_ Fuu…" _ Akaba didn't answer him, he just smirked instead. Hiruma took the coupe’s speed as a cue, his hole contracted a few times as he whipped the sex toy out from under his thigh, and started licking its tip. The guitarist _ did _ look for a moment to see what Hiruma had brandished, and when his eyes bore witness to Hiruma's pink tongue sliding against the red dildo's tip, all while looking Akaba _ dead _ in the eyes, the fullback turned away from him and swallowed. _ Not yet, _he told himself, he wanted to see where this new beat would take them. 

Hiruma turned the radio completely off so that Akaba could hear him slurp and suck noisily. 

"It's not as big as you…" Hiruma teased the length in his mouth down his throat, his tongue playing around its smooth edges. He pulled away with a pop. "But it will do for the time being. It might even be _ better _ than what you have stiffening up down there, guitar freak."

That didn't do anything, it didn't give Hiruma a physical reaction, so he slobbered the dildo with his own saliva before taking it down to his ass, pushing it straight in and groaning as he rolled his hips downwards sexually, yanking his cropped shirt up so that his nipples were exposed. His brown hair was starting to get in his face, making him look like an extremely hot mess of a woman, and unfortunately, Akaba's red eyes were not falling for his sinful tricks. 

"_ Mmm…" _ Bucking his hips forward, Hiruma muttered a curse as he synced his thrusts with his hips. It was easy for him to keep a quick pace because his ass was still slick, and it made an _ raunchy _ sound with every stroke. The unevenness of his own pace made Hiruma's navel hot, _ knowing _ that the silent man beside him would _ fix _ that uneven pace later on. "You know," he took a moment to breathe in, feeling the pleasure build up in his groin, "You don't _ have _ to focus so hard on the fucking road, you’re traveling in a _ straight line _."

"Behind the wheel, I do." Red eyes didn't even glance towards him. He sighed, it would be _ no use _ to someone like him. "Keep fiddling with yourself, Hiruma. You won't be granted a satisfactory rhythm to your beat until I park."

"Are you _ trying _ to say," Hiruma glared at him, "That I'm not as _ good _ at making myself cum as you?" 

"_ Fuu…" _ Hiruma knew that was not what he meant. He just wanted to start some shit. "If that is what you took out of what I said, then muse with it."

Hiruma bit his bottom lip, a higher pitched moan escaped his lips when he got close to his prostate, rearing his head back on the seat so hard his wig scrunched painfully against his scalp. He exhaled hotly, speeding up his already ragged pumping but making no move to stop. His free hand came down to stroke his own dick, growing hotter and hotter with every thrust, every _ sound _ from his red lips, every second he spent getting closer to cumming while Akaba stayed quiet beside him.

A sudden realization was made then and there; Akaba was silent because he was _ enjoying it _ . He was enjoying the show that he could not fully _ watch _ , and Hiruma being the King of Attention, required _ both _ of those red eyes to witness him in this glory.

Hiruma’s mouth went shut; since he was fucking himself, he had _ all _ of the control in his own release. Instead of being a moaning mess, the red dildo went in and out of him while Hiruma didn’t moan at all. Blue eyes went over to Akaba’s face; the guitarist’s eyes went up for a moment, as if he heard a sudden pause in a sentence. Hiruma smirked, even though he was less than two minutes away from cumming, he’d spend that time irritating the musical genius with his syncopation.

“Why did you stop?”

Akaba could clearly hear the fleshy sound of Hiruma’s hole being pummeled, so there should be no reason for him to ask that. The quarterback chuckled, inhaling right after he did so. “It’s still going deep in there, Fucking Red Eye. I’m nowhere _ near _ stopping.”

His nonchalant tone, to Akaba’s ears, sounded like someone assaulting a blackboard with a screechy piece of chalk. Hiruma’s body was still bucking recklessly, but his _ moans _ were what kept his erotic tune complete. Now that he chose to keep his mouth shut, and just now _ casually _ spoke to him, Akaba’s eyes narrowed _ very slightly _. You wouldn’t be able to catch it unless you were in front of his face.

“What made you think otherwise, hmm?” Hiruma shifted a little because he was starting to fall forwards. He acted oblivious before he made a sound of epiphany. “_ Ohhh, _ is it because I’m not moaning like a slut, _ guitar freak _ ? Your eyes too occupied with the road? _ Kekeke… _” The brunette taunted him, closing his eyes and feeling his legs start to tense. He was getting closer, it’ll be harder to play boss around the fullback…

But that wouldn’t stop him from continuing, _anyways_. “I _know_ you like hearing me scream and squeal like a _bitch_, and here I am… dressed _just like one!_ _Kekekeke,_ what’s the hold up, Fucking Red Eye? Pull over and make some noise outta me.”

Hiruma can see Akaba’s hands flex against the steering wheel. Oh, he was getting to him, alright.

“_ Come on… _ ” Hiruma said, partially to himself because the pleasurable was unbearable now. His body started tensing, chest tight with a squirm around his thighs. He shut his eyes with a shaky breath, his release long and thick with suppressed vigor, fingers tensing around the edge of his seat and the dildo still lodged in his ass. His cum shot out and landed on his stomach, staining his pale skin with his own essence, and after it was all over, Hiruma finally decided to let a low moan. He kept his eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply while running a hand through his long brown wig. The fullback beside him didn’t say _ a thing _; he didn’t physically or vocally react to Hiruma coming undone in his car...

_ Instead _ , he was _ already _ getting off a different exit lane while Hiruma had his eyes shut, and was going towards the countryside. Hiruma didn't notice until he saw trees instead of another patch of business buildings. 

The quarterback blinked twice, looked out the front view window, at his window, in the rear view mirror and then at the sky. It was getting dark, the sky was already turning navy blue, and the roads in this particular area were _ very _ empty. The only sounds in this area were the ambience of tree branches rustling in the breeze, and Akaba’s sweet whip cruising down the street.

They pulled up to nowhere in particular. Akaba literally slowed to a stop, parked and turned his engine off, undid his seatbelt and reached under Hiruma’s seat to recline it back as far as it can go. The fullback came right above Hiruma and straddled his hips down without a single _ word _, and the quarterback couldn’t help but laugh.

Akaba _ did _ say he’d handle the quarterback once he would park. He didn’t necessarily have to park _ at the business hotel _.

“_ Now _ you wanna stick your dick in me?” Hiruma’s chuckle faded and the look in his blue eyes became steamy, _ horny _ . “It’s _ about fucking time _, Fucking Red Eye.”

“Last time, I had to correct every _ missing _ note, chord and misplaced measure in your chaotic melody.” Akaba shook his head. “ _ Hmmph _, will this be a recurring theme in our newfound affairs?”

“It will be as long as you _ make _ it so.” Hiruma made a bucking motion with his hips. His hands were already fishing out Akaba’s dick from his jeans, sneakily spilling lube on the tip. “Stop being so fucking difficult, guitar freak. You’re already hard and you’re still going on about melodies and shit. If I wanna be out of tune, then I’ll be out of fucking tune.”

“You don’t enjoy it as much when you are out of tune.” Akaba dissected him, using a hand to angle his manhood. “And you _ know _that.”

His dick easily went into Hiruma’s already prepared hole, thumbs pressed against Hiruma’s hips as the quarterback moaned aloud. This time, Akaba noticed that he was not out to hide his notes, the fact that Hiruma just made a sound showed that not only was it getting easier to make him succumb to their melody…

This was _ also _ something Hiruma planned on happening.

With a smirk, Akaba attacked Hiruma’s neck, driving him up his own seat and holding Hiruma’s thighs back. He pounded the quarterback at a pace that made Hiruma lose his breath, the brunette-now-brunette had thrown his head to the side while scratching down at Akaba’s biceps.

“_Auh, huh, huh fuck- oh shi-”_ Hiruma started to shake. “That’s _right_, Fuck-ing Red Eye; _fuck me!”_ He moaned into a laugh. “_Fuck me! Fuck me_ _good-”_

Akaba placed his palm over Hiruma’s mouth. “Stop trying to talk. It’s disturbing our melody.”

Hiruma threw his hand off of his jaw, using another hand to pull his long brown hair to the side. “_ Mmm… _ Fucking _ make _ me, guitar _ freak _.”

He _ sure did _ stop the brunette from talking. Quickening the pace and pushing Hiruma’s thighs until they nearly touched his _ shoulders, _ Hiruma immediately ate his own words once his progressively loud moans filled the entire car. Despite the windows being closed, he was _ sure _ that any passerby would clearly hear muffled sounds of Hiruma cursing and almost screaming, encouraging Akaba to ram him until he’d bust. The fullback could feel him clenching around his length, he pulled away from Hiruma’s neck to look at the hot mess beneath him.

Hiruma’s eyes were closed, lips parted open making the most erotic sounds, voice being carried by the harshness of his own thrusts. Pale, long fingers held against Akaba’s forearms, in an attempt to push his hands off of his thighs, unable to take all the pleasure his body was spoiled with. His voice kept getting higher, up until he’d nearly whisper Akaba’s name, legs unable to hold still. This was a different release, Akaba actualized; this was Hiruma choosing to let himself go under his arms.

The fullback drew much closer to release at the sight, he _ desired _ to see that. He groaned and rocked Hiruma into his release, the quarterback screaming beneath him.

“_ FUCK- Oh, huh, huh sto- I can’t-” _ Hiruma nearly _ squealed, _his legs went haywire, the red eyed ace having to force his thighs in place, continuing to pound him even with the brunette ejaculating onto his skirt and stomach. 

Akaba’s deep chuckle did it for him, Hiruma held onto his taut biceps as he lost it again, whole body shaking, and the fullback came with him seconds later, lodging himself deep into the brunette and pressing his body against him, smoothing his hands against Hiruma’s sides now. Breathing against his neck, Akaba could feel Hiruma settling down beneath him, panting heavily after he worked him good in his own passenger seat. His slightly moan-laced breaths tickled the fullback’s ear, and he bit his bottom lip near Hiruma’s skin. They stayed that way for half a minute, satisfied with one another's breathing though neither of them would vocally admit it, Hiruma’s hands loosely roaming around Akaba’s back.

In one swift movement, Akaba pulled out and tore away from Hiruma's body to sit back in the driver's seat, fixing his jeans and turning the ignition back on. He could tell Hiruma was looking at him; this is not something he would’ve done, but the smirk on his face showed Akaba abruptly ended it on _ purpose _, just so he can feel those lingering eyes on his person.

The date was coming to a cease. The exposition awaiting them after a satisfying fuck. 

With a quick hand, he accelerated once more, now keeping his eyes on the road with a smirk on his face. If one didn’t know him, they would have thought he was _ boasting _. “Are you happy now?”

Hiruma just looked him up and down, silently, with an unreadable expression on his face. If Akaba could, he’d supplement the tune of sultruous saxophones with a few sensual notes from his own guitar, but he was driving. The messy brunette next to him continued to check him out, finding his disheveled dress shirt to be a sexy aesthetic on the fullback. His answer came in the form of him circling a finger around his parted lips.

Akaba saw it. “_ Fuu…” _ He shook his head. “Your gaze says more about what you _ want _ to say than you think.” The circling finger stopped, the quarterback’s nail ghosting against his tongue. Hiruma spoke in a low, soft tone; for some reason, he tends to emit softer cascading notes in his demeanor right after he cums. 

“You didn’t kiss me.”

Akaba blinked, the sultruous tune started to fade now. “Is that why you’re so quiet?”

His snark came back quite quickly. “You were so busy being all up in my fucking guts, your ass forgot to kiss me.” Hiruma started to laugh the usual way he does, with a bit of a bite in his timbre. “_ Kekeke, _ and you nearly ate out my fucking neck, Fucking Red Eye.”

Akaba ignored his foul choice of words. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Your kisses are fucking sappy, _ no I don’t _.”

A blink. “Then why are you complaining?”

“I’m not.” Hiruma fixed his long wig, pushing his hair behind him. He found a handkerchief in Akaba’s glove compartment, using that to wipe his stomach and skirt clean. His tone was really bitchy now. “It’s just not something you’d do.”

There was a pause between them, the cadence was _ loud _ to Akaba though. He lightly laughed. “You and I only mesh rhythms _ twice _, and somehow you’re now able to discern a kink in my tune?”

“You have a _ lot _ more kinks than you let on, guitar freak.”

Akaba shook his head. “That is not what I meant.” They were back on the expressway, going towards the more urban part of this city where the business hotel was. “A duet without a kiss shouldn’t be a problem to you, according to what you _ say _.” Akaba took a moment to look at Hiruma. “Your eyes and your body clearly say otherwise.”

“Well, if you’re so _ convinced _,” Hiruma looked away from him and out the window, “Kiss me once you drop me off, and quit talkin’ shit.”

“_ Fuu…” _ Akaba smiled, even though the brunette beside him had a stank face Akaba had a feeling he was playing it up. He knew Hiruma loved tonguing him down, that was probably the second best part of them meeting up. The _ best _ part, in Akaba’s opinion, wasn’t one particular instance; it’s every time Hiruma succumbed fragments of his self-control to him. He chose to ignore the cadence between them now. “Fine.”

The ten-minute ride went by with neither of them talking. If this were actually in the brunette’s apartment, it would have been a cue for Akaba to leave. Since they were both in one car, _ his _ car, Akaba had to stifle his amusement by playing more music, because Hiruma’s cross look was way too entertaining to witness. They didn’t pull up in front of the business hotel, Hiruma told him to go straight into the parking lot instead. Akaba parked a bit farther from other cars by habit, and when he turned he turned off his car Hiruma snatched his thong from atop Akaba’s center console. The red eyed ace got out of the car with the quarterback following soon after, and he in particular got out so that he can put his guitar back in the front passenger seat. Before he would approach, Hiruma got out of the car, closed the door harshly and went around the car towards Akaba.

Hiruma slammed Akaba's waist against the side of his car and smashed his lips into the fullback’s, not giving him _ any _ room to breathe. He breached Akaba’s mouth with a prying tongue and his hands went underneath Akaba’s shirt, feeling roughly at his abs. 

“_ Fnn…” _ He vocally sighed into Hiruma’s lips, pulling away with a soft smack. “How odd…”

Hiruma looked from his lips to his red eyes. “_ What? _”

Akaba smirked at him. “I was supposed to kiss you.” He started, quipping the quarterback. “But you ended up doing me the favor. Does your rhythm not know when its instruments should play? Or are you too impatient to wait for a rightful cue?”

There was that expected _ caesura _ again, a pause passed between the two and that _ always _ happens when Akaba manages to outsmart him. Blue eyes blinked twice before they lowered with a snarl, and he roughly pushed himself off of Akaba. “Fuck you.” Hiruma threw a hand at Akaba’s chest and started walking away. The quarterback strutted off, Akaba watched him shortly before he did what he initially was supposed to do. 

Pulling his passenger seat back, he took his guitar and adjusted the seat back to normal. He placed the full case down and stood back up to close his door, casting another glance at where Hiruma walked off too. Just like that, the devil had disappeared out of the parking lot, more than likely walking a lot faster once Akaba wasn’t looking his way. The catty way he ended their date was not meant to be taken seriously, as Akaba realized that this only happened when he doesn’t get what he wants. It’s quite funny to see how Hiruma can be fucked real good in the wake of evening stars, his body begging to him for more, and the only thing he could do afterwards rather than just _ be satisfied _ , is nitpick at the fact that Akaba didn’t simply _ kiss _him.

He chuckled, too amused to even bat an eye at the slight pain in his right breast from the way Hiruma's nails nearly dug into him. Peeling out of the parking lot and heading back to Saikyoudai’s dormitories, the fullback shook his head, _ how cute _.

This will be a recurring theme in their melody, and Akaba _ knows _ it.

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao don't be surprised, this is literally how their fuck sessions be:
> 
> -Hiruma's talking all that shit  
-Akaba dicks him down  
-Hiruma leaves or Akaba leaves, but not without the blonde bitching at him over something. It's just the cycle.


End file.
